


The Life of a Victor

by cheshire6845



Series: Victors and Heroes - A Hunger Games Universe [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: 66th Annual Hunger Games, Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Hunger Games, Multi, OUAT characters living in the HG universe, Sponsor, SwanQueen slow burn over series, Victor - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-23 10:54:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23043790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheshire6845/pseuds/cheshire6845
Summary: Emma Swan has just survived the 66th Annual Hunger Games and been crowned its Victor.Now she must meet her sponsor - Regina Mills.Will the price of sponsorship be more than Emma is willing to pay?
Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan
Series: Victors and Heroes - A Hunger Games Universe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1656052
Comments: 109
Kudos: 241





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I had a grand plan for one long story that took Emma from the 66th Games all the way through to the Rebellion. After I'd started, I found out there was a HG prequel book coming out. I've tried to stay close to canon with Victors of previous Hunger Games, adding in OUAT characters where it wasn't specified who had won. The prequel could change all that so I wanted to get my version started and posted. I still have the grand plans for this story, but now it will take place over parts of a series instead.  
> Hope you enjoy!

Emma wished she had died. That’s how tired she was, how much her body hurt, and how screwed up her head was. She was only a few hours removed from having just survived the 66th Annual Hunger Games and subsequently having been crowned its Victor.

“Hey, you’re awake,” a soft, warm voice said from beside her.

Emma turned her head and saw Ruby, her mentor, sitting forward in a chair beside her bed. She couldn’t think of a thing to say to the woman that had become like an older sister to her over the past few weeks since she’d been reaped.

“Congratulations,” Ruby said wryly.

Emma blinked. It was still unreal to her that she was now a victor. She could still feel the blood on her face from the last fight. The career tribute from District 1 had been straddling her, strangling her with his bare hands as they were the last two still alive. He never saw her pull the knife from her boot, never knew she had it until she thrust it into his neck. Emma could still taste his blood and she barely managed to roll to the side of the bed before she lost the meager contents of her stomach. Her stomach twisted and lurched until all she was doing was dry heaving.

“Okay, okay, come on.” Ruby gently pushed her back, then wiped a wet rag over her forehead. “Easy. Just breathe, Emma.” She folded the rag over and swiped across Emma’s mouth with it before setting it down. “Here, take a sip.”

Emma followed instructions and accepted the straw presented to her mouth. The water was cool and soothing. Ruby withdrew it before she could suck down the entire contents of the glass. Emma reached for it with a whine; she wanted more. _Needed_ more. Her thirst from the games was not quenched.

“I know. I know,” Ruby said apologetically, “but you’re just going to be sick again if you drink it all in one go. Just give it a few minutes.” She pushed back some of the blonde hair. “How’re you feeling otherwise?”

The last fight had been brutal, culminating a harrowing five days of rugged survival, paranoia, and loss. Emma had no idea how to put into words how she was feeling. She closed her eyes, no longer able to look at the concerned brunette standing over her. “Tired,” she managed.

“I bet,” Ruby said easily understanding better than anyone what her tribute, now victor, was going through. “The medical staff healed your broken bones and punctured lung, but you’ll still have soreness for a few days.”

Cracking open one eye, Emma asked, “Bones?”

“That bastard from District 1 broke three of your ribs and cracked your jaw,” Ruby explained, “and your wrist was still broken after your fight with the chick from 7.”

The female tribute from District 7 had been vicious. She’d probably been chopping down trees since she’d turned ten, and she’d also used some kind of poison on the makeshift knife she’d made. When she’d attacked, she’d cut Emma’s leg from knee to ankle. Emma had been sticking close to the forcefield and used it to her advantage, slamming the knife wielding lumberjack against it before collapsing in pain. The poison had acted quickly, burning into her leg and making it feel as though it was on fire. If it hadn’t been for the silver parachute delivering timely medicine within the next hour, Emma would not have survived.

“How did you get the medicine?” Emma asked warily.

Ruby bit her bottom lip. “Yeah, that’s something we need to talk about.”

Growing up in District 8, Emma had always watched the games. She’d watched tributes freezing to death or dying of dehydration while other tributes were gifted matches and medicine. Emma knew how the system worked. When she’d gotten reaped, she’d assumed she’d be on her own in the arena. After all, what sponsor would want to spend money on an orphan from District 8.

But someone had. Someone had sent her medicine and food; someone had sent her a knife. But all gifts come with a price, and now it seemed, it was time for her to pay. “What did you do, Ruby?”

“You have a sponsor.”

“Just one?”

Ruby nodded.

Emma felt a chill race down her spine. She wasn’t sure if it was better or worse to owe one person versus multiple people, but if felt ominous. She swallowed. “What do I have to do?”

“Spend one weekend at their home every three months.”

Emma started coughing which led to groaning and Ruby was on her feet making comforting noises.

“It’ll be all right. I promise,” Ruby said, offering Emma water. “She won’t hurt you.”

“ _She_?” Emma sputtered, choking again on the water she just drank and starting the cycle of coughing over. She laid back, holding her arm protectively over her ribs as she slowly caught her breath. Her eyes were watering and her head was throbbing. After several long minutes, she was finally recovered enough to ask. “Who?”

“Regina Mills.”


	2. Meeting her Sponsor

Emma sat in the back of the slick black sedan that had been sent to pick her up from the station. Her fingers itched and she sat on her hands to keep from picking at the nail polish Ruby had insisted she wear.

_“Trust me, she likes this color,” Ruby insisted as she held Emma’s hand still so she could paint the nails evenly._

_“So, what exactly is she expecting of me?” Emma asked for the hundredth time._

_Ruby shook her head. “She’ll explain everything when you get there. I promise she won’t hurt you.”_

_“Yeah, you keep saying that,” Emma muttered._

_“Because it’s true.”_

_“But you’ve been through this,” Emma whined. “She was your sponsor. You could tell me what I’m about to walk into.”_

_Ruby sighed. They’d had this conversation too many times. “I told you. I can’t talk about it.” She squeezed the younger woman’s hand. “Just trust me. Everything is going to be fine.”_

The sedan stopped briefly outside an opulent set of gates, pulling Emma back to the present. She leaned forward to look out the window and gaped. They’d arrived at a mansion. She had to duck down just to be able to see the top of the house when the car stopped again. Then she jumped back when the door was opened while she was still trying to look around.

Coloring slightly, she accepted the offered hand and tried to slide out of the back seat with some sort of grace. She managed not to trip and that had to count for something as she was left on her own to ascend the half dozen steps and announce her presence. Within seconds she found herself standing in front of the door, staring at it. She started to knock and then stopped herself when she realized her hand was shaking.

She rolled her shoulders and shook her arms out. “Come on, Swan,” she muttered to herself. “You can do this.” With more confidence than she actually felt, she lifted the heavy brass knocker.

Within moments, the heavy door swung open. An older, well-dressed gentleman stood in the doorway; he smiled warmly at Emma. “Miss Swan,” he greeted and stepped aside, motioning for her to come inside, “we’ve been expecting you.”

Emma eyed him curiously as she took a step into the mansion’s foyer. She tried hard not to gape at the sheer size and magnitude of the place. Luckily, it wasn’t her first time in such opulence. Her victor’s tour and its many parties had been quite the eye-opening experience. But still…

“May I take your coat?” the old man asked quietly from behind her, reminding her she wasn’t alone.

“Uhm, yeah, sure,” she shrugged out of the light jacket she’d worn over her dress. A dress she was extremely uncomfortable in but knew looked nicer than her regular attire. She tore her gaze away from her surroundings to watch him. “Are you like, a butler?” she asked having never seen one in real life.

He hung her jacket in a front closet. “More like a valet,” he said with a smile. “I try to help Ms Mills however and whenever I can.” He gestured for Emma to follow him. “You can call me Henry,” he missed the way she flinched at his name and carried on, “and if there’s anything I can do to assist you, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

She nodded; she never would, figuring anything she could possibly need she could do for herself easier than he’d be able to.

“As we’ll be seeing more of each other,” Henry continued, “I hope you’ll come to feel at home here.”

Emma snorted before she could catch herself. She looked worriedly at Henry but he just gave her another gentle smile.

“Well, if not at home, more comfortable,” he winked, then knocked on a closed door. A faint voice answered and Henry opened the door to what appeared to be a library. “Regina, your guest has arrived.”

Emma watched as the brunette sitting behind the desk looked up, a scowl of annoyance quickly fading to be replaced with a polite smile. Emma stepped further into the room at Henry’s subtle urging. “Hi.”

With regal poise, Emma’s sponsor rose from behind the desk and stepped around it. Emma stared at her. She’d seen pictures of Regina Mills on the news feeds and in historical records. She’d looked up everything she could find out about the woman after Ruby had broken the news to her. None of the pictures she’d seen had presented an accurate portrayal of the woman now standing in front of her. The black leather skirt and stiletto heels alone would have killed her, but then the woman had paired it with a deep red corset vest and black blazer. The woman absolutely shunned the Capitol’s trends of so-called fashion and looked all the sexier for it. She offered her hand. “I’m Regina Mills.”

Emma swallowed tightly, the nerves that she’d had at the front door were starting to crawl back up her throat. She quickly accepted the offered hand. “Emma Swan.” She flushed almost immediately. “Which, you already knew, of course.”

Thankfully, Regina nodded then turned to her assistant. “Thank you, Daddy,” she said. “We’ll join you shortly after we conclude our business.”

Emma’s head whipped around and watched as the older man inclined his head and backed out of the room, closing the door with him. “He’s your dad?”

Regina gave her a rueful look. “Yes, he’s rather insistent that I need an assistant.” She moved back towards her desk. “Would you like some apple cider?”

“Got anything stronger?” Emma quipped then grimaced, averting her eyes. That had probably been a bit too honest.

The older woman regarded her carefully for a moment before turning to the sideboard and filling two glasses halfway with a golden liquid. She handed one to Emma. “I assure you, Miss Swan, my cider is strong enough.” She circled back behind her desk, pretending not to notice the way the blonde sniffed at the glass, eyebrows raising in appreciation. “However, if it is not to your taste, I do have other options you may explore after we go over a few business items first. Until I know your constitution, I’d prefer you to remain sober.”

Emma scoffed and knocked back a large gulp before placing the glass on Regina’s desk. “I’ve been drinking black market ‘shine since I was twelve.” She gestured at the cider. “There’s nothing in the Capitol that can put me under the table.”

Regina’s fingers drummed once against her glass. “Good to know.” She shifted her glass to the side and pushed a folder towards Emma’s side of the desk. “I’m not sure how much Ms Lucas told you, but I have made copies of several important documents for you to review. They all pertain to our relationship going forward. One covers the contract I signed with Ms Lucas to become your sponsor in the Games. It covers the support I contributed to you and your responsibilities now that my portion of the agreement is complete.”

The muscle in Emma’s jaw ticked as she ground her teeth. “You mean it outlines my debt to you.”

“If that is how you choose to view it, Miss Swan,” Regina said, her expression revealing nothing. “In exchange for the supplies I provided you during the Games, you will spend one weekend, every quarter in my company for the next five years.”

“Five years?!” Emma sputtered.

Regina arched an eyebrow. “Ms Lucas didn’t tell you?”

Emma felt like her heart was beating out of her chest. Five years. She was going to be indebted to this woman for _five_ years. What the fuck had Ruby been thinking to make a deal like that?

“Try to be a little grateful, Miss Swan,” Regina said, sitting back in her chair. “It’s only twenty weekends of your life.”

Emma could hear the irritation in the older woman’s voice, but for fuck’s sake, five years was five years. “Couldn’t we just, I don’t know, roll all the days into one go?” She could handle a month or two. “Does it have to be stretched out-?”

“Yes.”

“But-”

“The deal I made with your mentor was for five years, Miss Swan,” Regina bit out. “I do what I can to help you stay alive in the Games, and in exchange, you accompany me for one weekend of my choosing, every quarter, for the next five years.”

Emma dropped her head into her hands. Five fucking years. When she’d volunteered at the reaping, her world had been ripped away from her. Then she’d gone into the Games, fighting for her life, thinking if she won, it would all be over. Would this nightmare never end?

As though she could read her mind, Regina said, “You are a victor now, Miss Swan. You will _always_ be a victor.” She paused. When Emma slowly raised her head, she continued, “Ruby should have explained all this to you.”

“Explained what?” Emma whispered.

“The life of a victor,” Regina said as though that explained everything. “Winning the Games was just the beginning. Besides honoring your contract with me, you’ll have to make appearances at Capitol parties, appear at future Games, be a mentor to your district’s future tributes. There will be expectations and responsibilities you must endure.” She sipped her cider. “Your old life, whatever it was, is over.”

Emma thought she might vomit. “What if I refuse?”

Regina bit back the retort that was on the tip of her tongue. The forlorn expression on the younger woman’s face had her softening. “ _That_ would be a mistake, Miss Swan.”

“Why?”

Regina stared back at the bottomless green eyes looking at her with such lost confusion. She mentally cursed Ruby Lucas in that moment for not having adequately prepared her victor. This was not her responsibility. However, she was never one to mince words. “If you fail to honor a deal made with a sponsor, there will be consequences. If you defy the Capitol, the consequences will be severe.”

Emma sat up a little straighter. There had definitely been a threat in that answer. She glanced at the paperwork sitting in front of her. “Are those consequences covered in your contract?”

The corner of her eye twitched. “Paragraph eight states that if you fail to fulfill your end of the contract, any and all sponsorship for your district would be suspended until your obligations are met.”

The blonde frowned. “But the Games are over.”

“The Games are _never_ over, Miss Swan.”


	3. Weekend Visits

Emma sat alone in the mansion’s study, staring at nothing as the paperwork remained unsigned on Regina’s desk. The older woman had succinctly explained both documents and then left, suggesting Emma read over them carefully before signing. That she _would_ sign them was no longer in question.

_“The Games are **never** over, Miss Swan.”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_Regina sat forward. “If you fail to honor a deal with a sponsor, in this case – me, no one will offer sponsorship to your district. That means, in the next games, there will be no offers of help for your district’s tributes. As a mentor, you won’t even be able to get a meeting with a sponsor because all sponsors will know you owe a debt. That means that you will have to look those scared, just-reaped tributes in the eye and tell them they’re going to die in the arena because you screwed them over.”_

_Emma swallowed thickly, the muscle in her jaw visibly pulsing._

_“And that’s not everything,” Regina said, continuing. “How’s the black market in your district?” She raised an eyebrow and waited for a response._

_Eventually, Emma shrugged. “It’s all right.”_

_“A great way to get what you need, right? Has a little bit of everything?”_

_“For a price,” Emma admitted._

_“It will cease to exist.” The sponsor threw back the last of her drink. “Every district receives a strict allotment of goods dictated by the Capitol. Food, medicine, electronics, whatever that district doesn’t produce itself the district receives in allotments for its citizens.”_

_Emma scoffed. “Yeah, right. No one could live off the allotments we get.”_

_“Precisely,” Regina said. “Hence you have the black markets. And where do you think the goods sold in the market come from, Miss Swan? Hmmm?”_

_“You’re telling me that sponsors for the Games also supply the black market?”_

_“The only people that can afford to be sponsors are the wealthiest people in the Capitol. Why are they wealthy? Because they control what’s being produced in the districts. Control the districts, control the money, run the Capitol.”_

_Emma cleared her throat. “And you do all that?”_

_“I do.”_

_“How?”_

_“I have controlling interests in three districts and massive interests in two others. My family is one of the wealthiest in the Capitol.”_

_“And you’d cut off supplies to an entire district just to spite me?”_

_Regina sat back in her chair, arms moving to the armrests. “Your district will continue to receive its Capitol approved allotment.” Her chin came up. “And not a single thing more.”_

_Emma swallowed. She believed her. She’d never really given any thought to where the market got its goods, but if it wasn’t there, people would starve. And medicines…yet Regina acted like her consequences, the consequences of a spurned sponsor, were less than what the Capitol would do. “And you don’t consider that severe?”_

_“If you decline to honor our agreements, my reactions will be strictly business,” she replied. “If you defy the Capitol, I can assure you it will be quite personal.”_

_“Personal, how?”_

_“People can die in the street or in their homes just as easily as they do in the arena.”_

_It was a fact coldly offered, but Emma had never heard of a victor being murdered outside the games. Victors were practically celebrities, surely it would have made the news even in her district._

_Regina tapped a manicured finger against the folder, continuing on with business. “The other contract you are required to sign is a non-disclosure agreement.”_

_“A what?”_

_“You will not speak to anyone about the time you spend in my company. You will not tell anyone what we do, where we go, or if you enjoyed yourself. The press will speculate, your friends will ask questions, and many people will make assumptions. You will neither confirm nor deny them. You will simply state that you have no comment or that you can’t talk about it.”_

_Emma remembered how Ruby had refused to tell her anything about Regina Mills._

_“If we attend a public event together,” Regina continued, “you are allowed to confirm that you attended with me, but you will not speak about what we did, who we met with, or anything that you may have seen.” She paused. “Are you understanding me, Miss Swan?”_

_“Huh. Oh, uhm, yeah, got it.” She nodded. “Don’t talk about our time together. No problem.”_

_“It will be harder than you think, Miss Swan.” Regina leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, hands clasped together. “People will offer you a lot of money for information about me. They will make lewd suggestions about our time together. They will offend you; they will try to be your best friend. You will not tell them anything. You will let them believe whatever they choose to believe.”_

_Emma was beginning to wonder if Regina was a little crazy. “I can handle it,” she said. “I don’t really talk to people and now I have plenty of money. It won’t be a problem.”_

_Regina regarded her for a moment. “I hope so.” She stood, ran her hands down her blouse to straighten it. “I’ll give you some time to read over the contracts. Join me in the kitchen once you’ve signed.”_

Emma read over the contracts. They were pretty much exactly what Regina had stated. The same penalties applied for breaking the sponsor contract or the NDA. The sponsor contract was for five years; the NDA was for life. Emma picked up the pen and signed her name.

For the next five years, Regina Mills owned her.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Emma tried to calm her breathing as the expensive car service rolled through the capitol, delivering her for the second time to the Mills Mansion. Three months earlier, she’d signed the papers indenturing herself to Regina Mills for five years. She was still chafing at the deal made on her behalf, and the horrible part was that nothing bad had happened.

_She signed the papers in the study and then found Henry and Regina in the dining room, waiting on her to have lunch. Henry made small talk for all of them, asking Emma about her district and what she had done before the Games. He seemed interested as she spoke curtly about working in the textile mill and making uniforms for peacekeepers. Regina listened quietly without interrupting but also without as much interest as Henry. Her father tried drawing her into the conversation by telling a story about a much younger Regina tearing her favorite pair of riding pants and refusing to let her mother throw them out. Emma made it awkward by being shocked they would throw away a perfectly good pair of pants instead of just mending them._

_Lunch ended shortly after that with Regina stating she had work to finish, and that Emma should make herself at home. Clearly, Regina had no clue that home for Emma would have consisted of an area equal to the kitchen and dining room; she would never be comfortable in a mansion. Henry shrugged and shooed her out to explore. She spent the rest of the day wandering around, poking her head into all the unlocked rooms until she found some where she thought she could actually like._

_It was a cozy room with floor to ceiling books lining two walls, two dark couches that looked like they were actually used occasionally, and a hologram stand that would project a picture larger than any Emma had ever seen. A fireplace and small liquor cabinet complete with glasses finished the room. Emma traced her fingers along the shelves, reading titles of books as well as video files until she saw one that sounded familiar. She carefully loaded it into the projector and settled on one end of the couch, sinking comfortably into the cushions. She fell asleep sometime after the Scarecrow sang about wanting a brain._

_When she woke up, she practically jumped off the couch, apologies at the ready, when she saw Regina sitting on the opposite couch, a book held open across her lap despite her attention focused on the projection. Her eyes cut to Emma, acknowledging her, but then went back to the movie. “It’s been a long time since I saw this.”_

_Emma watched in stunned bewilderment as Toto pulled back the curtain exposing the Wizard. She sat up, warily. She felt a compulsion to respond, to say something back. “They used to show a movie once a year in the square when the leaves start to change color. I was in my third year of school when they showed this one.”_

_Regina watched her, perhaps waiting for more, but Emma felt like she had already said too much. She clammed up and as soon as the movie ended, she tensed. So far, it had all been too easy. Regina had asked nothing of her and Emma wanted nothing more than to bolt from the room._

_The older woman made a herculean effort of reading her book for the next hour while Emma openly stared at her. After she finished three chapters, she closed the book, and took off her reading glasses. “Well, it’s late.” If she noticed Emma flinch, she ignored it. “I think I’ll go up.” She got to her feet. Emma pushed herself further into the cushions. “I believe my father set you up in the guest room, second door to the left at the top of the stairs. Good night, Miss Swan. I’ll see you in the morning for breakfast.”_

_Emma held her breath as she watched the woman leave the room. Once the door closed behind her, the younger woman exhaled shakily. She leaned over her knees, holding her head in her hands. “What the hell?”_

_The next day was more of the same. Emma anxiously waiting for the second shoe to fall, to find out just what exactly it was that Regina expected of her. But nothing happened, Regina joined her by the pool for an hour in the afternoon and then appeared again later in the den. She sat on her couch, across from Emma, and pretended to read while actually watching the movie Emma had randomly selected. Turned out, it was one of Regina’s favorites but Emma was so distracted by the brunette’s presence she couldn’t have said a thing it was about._

_Then, when Emma’s nerves were completely shot and she was preparing to return home, Regina went and confused her again. She pressed a book into Emma’s hands as she was walking out the door. “I thought you might enjoy reading this on your trip home.”_

_It was a copy of The Wizard of Oz._

And now, Emma was back at the mansion. Another weekend with the woman she’d learned was sometimes referred to as the Evil Queen. She walked up the steps, glancing nervously over her shoulder when the car that delivered her didn’t immediately leave. “It’s not like I’m going to run off,” she muttered to herself, shaking her hands out as she neared the door. “I didn’t run away from the reaping and Regina isn’t nearly as terrifying as that.”

“I certainly hope I’m not,” a smoky voice said from her right.

Emma spun on the spot, one arm coming up in a defensive block as she shifted her weight to the balls of her feet. There were shadows on the edge of the front patio and she could just make out a figure leaning against the corner of the mansion. “What the hell?!”

“I appreciate you being on time, Miss Swan,” Regina said as she stepped out of the shadows and into the light. She smirked as Emma lowered her arms. “I hope you’re hungry.”

Emma was always hungry. If Regina didn’t know that yet, she’d learn soon enough. Their first weekend had gone well enough, but she had no idea what to expect for this one. Oddly enough, Regina seemed to be dressed more casually now, on her way out, then when Emma had met her inside her home. Knee high boots wrapped around denim clad legs and Emma realized that while Regina’s appearance might _seem_ casual, the materials she was wearing cost more than Emma’s home.

“Miss Swan?”

Emma’s eyes snapped back up to meet brown. “What? Uh, yeah, sure. I can always eat.” She rolled her shoulders, trying to settle herself. “But I mean, it’s whatever you want, right?”

Regina’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly at the jab. “Yes, that’s right.” She gestured at the car Emma had just exited. “Shall we?”

No wonder the driver had just stood there and watched. Asshole couldn’t have given her a heads up? She glanced back towards the shadows. “Wait, were you just sitting out here, waiting for me?”

“No, Miss Swan,” Regina said, smirking back over her shoulder. “I was standing.”


	4. Victors Only

The car pulled up to another grand mansion that had Emma raising her eyebrows in question since Regina had refused to tell her on the way over where they were going. They stepped out of the car and Emma could hear music drifting out from somewhere behind the stately home. “A dinner party?”

“Of sorts,” Regina said, linking her arm through Emma’s as they walked up the path. “This home belongs to my dear friend, Mallory Drake.”

Emma stopped in her tracks. “The Dragon?”

Regina chuckled and pulled her forward. “The very one.”

Mallory Drake was a legend. At the tender age of fifteen, she’d won the 25th Hunger Games in record time using a decimating fire. There had been only two tributes besides Mallory that had survived the fire; she’d summarily ripped out both of their throats. In less than twelve hours, she’d been named victor. It was the quickest Hunger Games in history. And because it had been the First Quarter Quell, she hadn’t been reaped from a bowl of tributes. Mallory Drake had been _elected_ by her district. It was no big surprise that she now owned District 5.

A lithe statuesque blonde appeared in the front doorway and Emma realized she was seeing the woman, the Dragon, in the flesh. Regina nudged her with an elbow. “Close your mouth, dear,” she said, then let go of her. “Mal!”

“Regina,” Mallory Drake practically purred her friend’s name as she embraced her. Crystal blue eyes easily tracked over the shorter woman’s shoulder to the blonde still standing a few steps down. “And you’ve brought a friend.”

“Try not to scare her off, Mal,” Regina said then gestured for Emma to join them. “Emma Swan this is Mallory Drake.”

“Hi.” She considered attempting a curtsy but thought better of it. Unlike the majority of Capitol citizens she met, this woman actually had her respect. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

“Oh, I like this one,” Mal said, then she looked more perceptively at Regina. “Oh! I see now. She’s one of yours, isn’t she?”

Emma’s head snapped up. “What?”

“The knife, the food, the antidote,” Mal said, still talking to Regina, “that all came from you, didn’t it?” The Dragon looked Emma over again then eyed Regina more closely. “But why not tell me about her?”

Regina’s gaze swept over Emma. “You know I like to keep my investments private.”

“And you know I don’t like to hear about your conquests, Little One.” Mal stroked the back of her knuckles down Regina’s cheek. “You really are a bad girl, aren’t you?”

Regina smirked. “The worst.”

“You should have told me.” Mal waved a finger at her. “I wasted quite a bit of money betting on one of those careers.” She gave Emma a more appraising look then smirked, “Underdog, attitude, and cute. I should’ve known.”

“Yes, you should have,” Regina said, her tone matching Mal’s, smug and full of attitude.

“Known what?” Emma asked.

“May we come in?” Regina asked, ignoring the younger blonde.

“Of course, of course.” Mal stepped aside, letting them in. “Go introduce her to the others.” She trailed a hand across Regina’s shoulders. “Lily is going to love this.”

“Mal,” Regina growled, but Mal laughed her off and left them.

“What the hell did that mean?” Emma asked. “I’m one of _yours_?!”

“Lower your voice, Miss Swan.” Regina tucked her hair behind her ears. “It’s just Mal’s way of saying I sponsored you.”

“And now you _own_ me? I’m your _conquest_?” Emma growled; yeah, she’d heard that. “Is that what she thinks? Is that what everyone thinks? That I’m just your new little pet? That I _belong_ to you?”

“No one thinks that.” Regina was losing her patience with the blonde’s ungrateful attitude. “This party,” she gestured with her hand towards the house, “like so many things I do, is for _you_. Try to remember that.”

Having said that, Regina spun on her heel and marched away leaving Emma reeling in the doorway. What the hell did that even mean? Luckily, before she could do anything rash, Ruby popped out from a room up ahead. “Hey Ems!” She chuckled as she walked towards her former tribute. “I wondered what had Regina all cranky. Should’ve known it was you.”

“Ruby?” Emma was surprised to see her mentor in the Dragon’s house. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Ruby wore impossibly tall heels and stood several inches taller than the blonde. “Why wouldn’t I be here? Mal throws the best party of the year for us.” She hooked her arm through Emma’s. “Victors only.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Hey Graham, come over here,” Ruby called towards the back patio. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

Emma’s eyes widened as she looked out across Mallory’s back yard. It was easily the most greenery she’d seen in the Capitol, and she realized she recognized, at least, half of the people milling about. Almost every living victor, and their guests she supposed, were in attendance. These were people she’d seen on videos during every year’s games her entire life. Some of them she had seen in passing, serving as mentors at her games. Some of them she’d seen during her victory tour at the district parties, but she’d never spoken to most of them.

When her gaze landed on a knot of people glaring at her, the career victors, she took a step back. Ruby glanced at her, then where she was looking and flipped them off. “Don’t worry about them, Ems. Mal has a strict no fighting rule.” She wrapped her arm over the young champion’s shoulders. “And no one wants to piss off Mal.”

“You bellowed, m’lady?”

“Yeah! I wanted you to meet Emma.” She guided Emma around until she was face-to-face with Graham Hunter, winner of the 56th games. “Emma, this is Graham.”

He was even more handsome in person, with his golden flecked beard and striking blue eyes. He had a kind smile and she could understand why girls tended to swoon over him. He bent at the waist to kiss the back of her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Emma. You fought well in the games.”

It was only with that comment that Emma remembered Graham was from District 7 and that it was his tribute that had almost killed her with poison. She jerked her hand away from him unsure what she was supposed to say. Sorry for killing your tribute even though she really deserved it? No, not deserved it. None of them _deserved_ it, but she had been trying her hardest to kill Emma.

He seemed to understand her sudden reluctance. “Mysa would’ve been glad you won. If it couldn’t be her, of course.”

Emma had never known the girl’s name. “I don’t know about that,” she said. “Her poison almost killed me even after she was dead.”

“True.” There was a wolfish quality to Graham’s answering grin. “But she didn’t want the careers to win so there’s that, at least.”

Ruby just laughed, “Mysa was a bitch, Graham, and you know it.”

He shrugged and sipped his beer. Emma was horrified at their nonchalance. It hadn’t even been a year yet. At least the career pack seemed pissed that she’d killed their tribute.

“Oi, has the lass finally agreed to join the rest of us degenerates?” Killian Jones practically stumbled into their small group. “Hello, love.”

He saluted Emma with his silver hook. He’d won the 59th games, but not without losing his hand first. It had shocked the hell out of the career tribute when he’d continued to fight one-handed, but being from District 4, Killian had grown up on ships and around the water. He was just as good at throwing a net and a spear with one hand as he was the other. Thankfully, Emma hadn’t been directly responsible for his tribute’s death.

“I don’t think Regina would appreciate you referring to us as degenerates,” Graham commented mildly.

“Would she prefer reprobates?” Hook asked.

“That’s the same thing.”

Ruby rolled her eyes. “Don’t mind them,” she said to Emma. “This is an ongoing argument.” She hit Killian in the chest when he offered yet another synonym. “And not why I wanted you to meet them.”

Emma watched the two men bickering back and forth like brothers. “Why did you want me to meet them?”

“Because as you so eloquently phrased it earlier,” Regina spoke up unexpectedly from behind Emma, “these are all victors that once _belonged_ to me.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Emma sat at the bar, blessedly alone for a moment.

Graham. Hook. Ruby. All victors of their games due to Regina’s sponsorship. And with only the slightest nod of approval from Regina before she glided off back into the house, they all divulged that yes, they had served the same five-year contract that Emma now served. They then all confirmed that the non-disclosure agreement they signed was still in effect and could not give her any further details.

_“Technically, I was her first,” Hook bragged. “You,” he said, pointing at Graham, “were purchased by her mother as a bit of arm candy for Regina’s social debut…and deflowering, one presumes.”_

_“You presume too much,” Graham growled, getting in Killian’s face. “And I wasn’t purchased. I killed my competition the same as you.”_

_“Aye, mate, you did,” Hook grinned, “but not without a little bit of help from Cora. A very practical woman in all things. Nothing but the best for her daughter.”_

Emma recalled that Graham had been eighteen when he’d won his games. He’d been gifted climbing spurs and two hatchets within the first four hours. Death had descended from high above in the tree tops onto unsuspecting victims below that year.

A dark, husky laugh drew Emma’s attention. Her gaze tracked across the yard to find Regina once again near Mallory’s side. Girls and boys in the Capitol debuted as eligible at the age of fifteen. If there was anything to Hook’s crude suggestions, Cora had secured a victor of her choosing to act as an escort for her daughter…and to bring Regina into womanhood. Emma knocked back her drink at the thought.

Would the same sort of sexual services be expected of Emma?

Is that why Regina had sponsored Killian only three years later? And then Ruby two years after that?

When Emma had met Finnick Odair earlier, he’d certainly implied that certain things were expected of victors.

_Emma watched the young man with the open shirt easily slide his way through the crowd. Considering how he’d won his games the year before (the youngest victor ever, beating Mallory’s record by a single year) she rather thought of Finnick as a shark swimming around his choice of victims._

_He’d noticed her watching him and approached with a smirk. “See anything you like?”_

_She frowned at his appraising look. “You do know I’m older than you, right?” She was nineteen now, a fifteen-year-old boy held little interest for her._

_“Almost everyone is.” He shrugged, looking around the gathering. “Hasn’t stopped anyone else from being interested.”_

_“That’s disturbing,” she said, sipping her drink. She caught sight of Regina talking to a young brunette. “Well, you’re not my type.”_

_For a moment, Finnick looked his age as he hopped onto the bar stool next to her and took a second to settle himself. Despite Hook’s tutelage, he was occasionally still a kid adjusting to a still growing body, bony elbows and long legs. Once he was situated, he pulled his mask of confidence back in place._

_“So, what is your type?” he asked, following her eyeline. “Let me guess, moody brunette female with a temper that will leave you scorched and words that cut colder than an ice pick?”_

_Well, he’d certainly described Regina easily enough. Emma scoffed, “You mean, my sponsor? No thanks.”_

_He frowned at her answer. Genuine confusion replaced his smooth demeanor. “Why not?” He didn’t let her answer, leaning in closer instead and lowering his voice. “Do you not realize how lucky you are that she sponsored you?”_

_Emma leaned away from him. She didn’t like the hard edge that had crawled into his voice. “If the only thing Regina had done was sponsor me, then yeah, I’d be thrilled, but there’s a bit more to it than that.”_

_“There’s always more to it, Savior,” he sneered._

_“Don’t call me that.” Gods, how she hated that nickname. Yeah, she’d volunteered in place of a twelve-year-old boy she knew; then in the games, there’d been three twelve-year-olds she hadn’t even tried to help. Fuck Caesar Flickerman for calling her that._

_Finnick chuckled. It was not a humorous sound. “Indebted to one woman for five years? I **wish** I had that kind of misfortune.” _

_“What misfortune?” She’d seen his social debut party on the news four months earlier. Since then, every time he’d been to the Capitol, he’d made splashes on the social pages. “I haven’t noticed you hurting for company since you became eligible.”_

_His green eyes flashed dangerously then narrowed. He cocked his head to the side still eyeing her curiously. “You have no idea, do you?” He laughed again, a broken sort of chuckle, then swiped a drink from a passing waiter. “And I thought I was naïve when I won.”_

_She bristled at the insult and watched as he knocked back the entire glass of liquor that she knew he wasn’t old enough to legally drink._

_“Mags made sure that my young age protected me for the first year,” he said, toying with the empty glass before setting it on the bar. “But you have the Mills Protection plan for **five** years. You should enjoy that time because once it’s up…” he reached out a hand, fingering a lock of her blonde curls, “you’ll be on the bargaining block the same as the rest of us.” _

_“What bargaining block? What are you talking about?”_

_He slid to his feet only a little unsteady, picked up his refilled glass and saluted her with it. “The last time you saved someone, you stood up and volunteered.” He gave her a long appraising look, gaze lingering on her chest until she crossed her arms over it. He chuckled. “I’d wager the next time you save someone, you’ll be on your back.” His gaze tracked up to her mouth. “Or maybe your knees.”_

_Emma got to her feet, ready to slap him. He took a step back, drink sloshing slightly before he brought it to his mouth, smirking over it. “Have a good night. Savior.”_


	5. Learning Things

As it turned out, Finnick had only been the first of the evening to tell Emma how lucky she was. None of the career-pack victors ever came and spoke to her. A fact she was both aware of and mostly respected. They weren’t trying to be anything they weren’t. Everyone else…she had to keep reminding herself that half the people in the room had _literally_ killed to be here. She doubted there was a more dangerous group of people in the Capitol. And yet, most of them were…nice.

_“Hi! Emma, right?” a perky voice was suddenly at her shoulder and she turned around to see an aging but still very attractive couple standing in front of her. The woman stuck out her hand. “I’m Snow and this is my husband, Charming.”_

_Emma knew who they were, of course. Victors of the 51 st and 52nd games. They’d met at subsequent games and fallen in love. It was one of the love stories Caesar loved to talk about and check in on every year. Snow was from District 11 and had apparently been something of a trick shot with a bow and arrow, shooting apples with impossible shots. In the games, she became an assassin capable of long-distance kills. Her overly sweet demeanor had made her a Capitol darling. _

_Charming was much more of the strong and silent type. He was from District 10 and not understanding how his skill with a lasso could translate to the games, the gamemakers gave him a low score causing everyone to underestimate him. He stayed alone for the first two days of his games until he was gifted a coil of rope. Then he went to work picking off his foes one-by-one. With his coil of rope, he strangled four people and snapped the necks of the last two careers in the final fight to end it all._

_Snow was still talking and Emma hadn’t caught a word of what she was saying. “I’m sorry, what?”_

_Snow smiled like it didn’t even bother her. “Regina,” she repeated. “She was your sponsor, right? You’re very lucky she took an interest in you.” She waved to someone across the patio. “I mean, as mentors we’re not allowed to bet, but I thought for sure 7 was going to take it all this year.”_

_“Snow,” Charming chided quietly, his watchful gaze on Emma. “I’m sure Emma doesn’t want to hear about the other tributes.”_

_Snow seemed to realize she’d put her foot in her mouth. Her hand shot out grab Emma’s. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. It’s been so long for me I forget how it feels to be fresh out of the games.”_

_“Yeah well, if you’ll excuse me, I haven’t quite forgotten anything yet.” She pulled her hand away, ignored the disappointed pout on Snow’s face, and inclined her head to Charming. He responded in kind._

_She made her way to the table laden with food. She still hated seeing how much food went to waste in the Capitol, but she had to admit it tasted good. And Mal spared no expense. Emma piled a couple of pork ribs and a chicken breast on her plate. She was eyeing the side dishes when she felt someone watching her. She looked up to find Regina leaning against the door frame, wine glass dangling from her fingers._

_“What do you want?” Emma asked._

_Irritation flashed across Regina’s features. “Snow appeared disappointed when you walked away from her.”_

_Emma threw a couple of rolls on her plate. “What’s it to you?”_

_The irritation was more pronounced as Regina crossed the room and began refilling her glass from one of the bottles on a side table. “I didn’t bring you here tonight for my health. I brought you here so you could meet more people like yourself.”_

_Emma scoffed. “More people indebted to you?”_

_The bottle clinked against the table as she slammed it down. “Victors, Miss Swan. Other people that know exactly what you’ve been through…and what you can expect in the future.”_

_It was a miracle the plate didn’t shatter when it slipped from Emma’s grasp. It clattered noisily against the countertop and a roll fell to the floor but neither woman gave it a second glance. Green eyes hardened as they glared across the room. They were suddenly the eyes of a killer prepared to defend themselves, but the brunette they were locked onto seemed utterly unimpressed. Regina coolly sipped her glass of wine, never breaking the stare over the rim of her glass._

_Emma had to work to unlock her jaw. “Was that a threat?”_

_“You’d know if I was threatening you, Miss Swan.”_

_“So, it was a threat.”_

_“Hardly.”_

_“What do you **want** from me?” Emma hissed, tired of the games._

_Regina set her glass down and strode across the kitchen until she was standing only inches away from the blonde. “I want you to wake up. Start paying attention to the world around you. You’re one of the fortunate ones.” She glanced down at Emma’s balled up fists; she saw the way they were shaking with restraint. “You’re still in mourning for the life you left behind; the life you had before the games is gone. Get over it.”_

_Emma flinched, the scent of wine on Regina’s breath hit her hard. “And become like all of you? Treating this like it’s all some big joke. Acting as though everyone here hasn’t either killed people or bet money on life and death like it’s no big deal.”_

_“Well, they do call it the Hunger **Games** ,” a voice drawled from the kitchen doorway. _

_Emma and Regina both spun to face the newcomer, a brunette woman with grey eyes stood in front of Mallory who was eyeing the pair of them curiously. Regina took a step back, putting space between her and Emma._

_The younger woman chuckled and glanced up to Mallory. “You’re right; I like this one already.”_

_~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*_

Lilith Page was another story the gamemakers and Caesar absolutely loved telling. She’d won the 57th Hunger Games by being a stone-cold killer. She’d taken out more than half the field of tributes all by herself. She’d made no alliances and offered no mercy. If you found yourself standing across from her in the arena, you died.

Lily’s story going into the games was that she had been raised an orphan, growing up on her own in District 6. She’d been fighting for survival since she’d been old enough to walk. But as soon as she appeared on stage at the Reaping, Mallory saw something different than everyone else. She saw the child that had been stolen from her some fifteen years earlier. A few bribes and blood tests later, Mal had her proof. Lilith Page was her daughter.

And she was headed into the arena.

Mal immediately tried to sponsor her, but the parachutes went unopened. Lily made it clear that she would live or die on her own, the way she always had. Though terrified, Mal had never been prouder.

Coming out of the games, Lily was a wild card. She owed no one and she had no one in her life. She’d only shown up to half the districts on her victory tour and she was never seen in the Capitol. But Mal had been persistent, and after a year of trying she was finally able to meet with Lily. No one knew the exact details that had transpired between them, but by the 60th games, they were reconciled enough that Caesar interviewed them together, airing their tragic story and reunion as mother and daughter.

Lily became a lifeline to Emma for the rest of the party. She dragged Emma away from Regina and introduced her to Haymitch Abernathy and Chaff, victors of the 50th and 45th games respectively. Both men had brought black market liquor from their own districts with them, and Lily pulled out a private flask as well. They were all happy to share, but Emma made a mental note to bring her own supply in the future.

The four of them sat around a table playing cards and drinking for the rest of the night. Many stories of drunken Capitol nights were exchanged without a single mention of the games. Killian occasionally joined them, more for the liquor and stories than the cards. Mags, victor of the 11th games and oldest victor in attendance at the party, came by once on her way out, planting a kiss farewell on each of their heads. Even Rumple, victor of the 15th games, sat down and played a few hands, subsequently winning half of the money on the table before smirking and limping away.

Ruby had shown up once, trying to suggest Emma mingle with Regina some, but Emma brushed her off. Her sponsor had wanted her to talk to other victors and that’s exactly what she was doing. She was learning all sorts of things. For instance, each district’s liquor had a distinct flavor and bite to it. It all depended on what that district’s access was to certain ingredients. She also learned from Lily that District 4 had the sweetest leaves for smoking. The salt from the sea air gave them an extra flavor that the other districts lacked.

At a very late hour, when the cards lay forgotten on the table and Haymitch and Chaff were passed out in their seats, Regina came looking for Emma.

Lily sat with her feet up on the table lazily smoking when Regina walked in. “Hey, Mills.” She glanced at the younger blonde who fiddled with a few cards, building a small house. “You’re not leaving already, are you?”

Regina’s gaze took in the passed-out men and the way Emma was studiously ignoring her. “Yes, I’m afraid it’s past time we depart. Your mother has already gone up for the night.”

“Oh yeah?” Lily asked, giggling. “Who’d she take with her?”

“I believe Graham and Ruby were accompanying her.” That, at least, got a reaction out of the blonde, her head half-turning towards the conversation.

“What a couple of wolves.” Lily laughed outright. “Mom’s been waiting for Ruby for years. Finally, her contract with you is up and she’s a free agent.”

“Yes, well,” Regina straightened her jacket, “Ruby had expressed an interest in both of them. I saw no reason not to encourage it.”

Lily dropped her feet off the table and stood. She held her smoke out to the side as she closed the distance between herself and the older brunette. “What about you, Mills?” She rested her hand on Regina’s hip. “You don’t have to leave, you know. We could go right up those stairs and make this party a little more private.”

Shockingly, Regina draped her arm over Lily’s shoulder, swaying her hips against the young dragon’s. “I think you’ve had too much to drink tonight, Ms Page.” She snagged the smoke from the younger woman’s hand and took a hit off it. Her eyes closed in satisfied bliss as she exhaled slowly. “And I know you’ve had too much smoke.”

“Some would argue, I haven’t had enough.” Her gaze dropped to Regina’s mouth, tongue darting out to moisten her own lips.

“Mal would roast me alive if she found out,” Regina argued, tilting her head to the side, exposing more of her neck as she took another hit off the smoke.

Lily took advantage of the unspoken invitation and began kissing and nibbling along Regina’s jaw. “She’s never cared before.” Her mouth trailed a hot path down the exposed neck. “And I’m sure she’s quite occupied for the night.”

“No,” Regina sighed, reluctantly pushing Lily away. “I promised her it was a one-time thing.”

“I believe it was three times.” Lily swiped a thumb across her lips, grinning. “I’m going to have to talk to her about that.”

Regina hummed her agreement then looked down where Emma was gaping up at them. Green eyes were wide and there was color high in her cheeks. Even the tips of her ears were red. “Are you ready to leave, Miss Swan?”

Emma cleared her throat and got to her feet. “Yeah, sure.” Her surliness returned immediately. She’d almost forgotten her actions weren’t entirely her own. “Whatever you say.”

“Aww, ease off, Swan,” Lily saw the way Regina’s expression tightened at the blonde’s attitude. She chuckled and reached past Emma for her lighter on the table. “Go home before I take both of you upstairs.”

Emma’s jaw dropped but Regina just smirked. “Another time, Miss Page.”

Lily and Emma both watched as Regina walked out. “Damn, you’re lucky, Swan.” She swatted the younger woman on the ass. “Now get out of here.”

Emma stumbled after her sponsor, slightly drunk, slightly high, and more than a little confused. Regina didn’t speak to her until they were walking through the front door of the mansion.

“I will see you in the morning for breakfast, Miss Swan,” she said. “And I don’t care how hungover you are, we’re going horseback riding tomorrow.”


	6. Broken In

Emma was pissed as she strode up the short walkway to the mansion’s front door. It had only been a week since she was last at Regina’s, but the time since then had been nothing short of hell. And her sponsor was the source of her frustrations.

Ever since she’d been reaped for the games, Emma had received pitying looks from the people in her district. When she’d returned to her district as a Victor, the looks had changed. Some were proud, some were jealous, and from the older crowd, the looks were still full of pity. After her last weekend at Regina’s, there were a few that still pitied her, but there were a few new emotions as well.

Disgust.

Disdain.

After the Victor’s party at Mal’s on Friday night, Regina had gotten Emma up at the crack of dawn on Saturday. They’d taken the train out to District 10 and visited a ranch Regina owned. They’d taken a couple of horses, an animal that Emma had never seen before in real life, and gone out riding for the entire day. If the terrain was smooth and they were walking, Emma had ridden alone; when Regina had wanted to canter, she’d had Emma join her and ride double. Eventually they’d made it back to the ranch and stayed the night before catching the train back to the Capitol in the afternoon.

Emma had known, of course, when they’d dismounted that she was going to be sore the next day. She’d underestimated just how sore and had actually had trouble walking Sunday morning. Limping on and off the trains, Regina had generously assisted her all the while laughing and smiling at her inexperience.

As it turned out, Emma was inexperienced in more ways than one.

_The first few distasteful looks and snide comments caught Emma by surprise. She limped off the train Monday morning and slowly made her way through town to the house provided for her in the Victor’s Village. One old woman shook her head at her before looking away, a couple of school girls giggled, pointing at her before running off, and she distinctly heard the word ‘disgraceful’. Emma rolled her eyes; she’d never ridden a horse before let alone for eight hours. Even Regina had commented on Sunday morning that they may have overdone it, claiming her back was sore._

_When she got to her house, she was surprised to find Ruby sitting on the front step apparently waiting for her. She stood upon seeing Emma and gave her a long once over, smiling softly. “Hey, Ems.”_

_“It’s a little early for you to be up, isn’t it?” The life of a victor did not require rising with the sun. After five years, Ruby had embraced the sleeping in aspect of victor life._

_“I wanted to see how you were doing,” Ruby said, following Emma inside the house._

_The blonde shrugged, absentmindedly rummaging inside her fridge. “I was a little hungover Saturday morning, but I’m good now.” She poured herself a glass of juice. “I should be asking you how your weekend was.” She leaned back against the counter. “Did you really sleep with the Dragon?”_

_Ruby’s eyes narrowed and she sat back in the chair at the table. “That’s really what you want to talk about?”_

_Emma laughed. “Well, yeah!” She grinned. “I mean…Mallory Drake, come on!”_

_The older victor studied the blonde. She was a couple of years older than Emma, but she’d learned a lot about the girl over the past year. Intense circumstances made for fast friends. And what she was seeing did not go with what she knew of the reluctant victor, the orphan who valued her privacy. “How was the rest of your weekend with Regina?”_

_The blonde shrugged. “It was alright, actually. We got along. I think the party helped her relax. We went out to District 10 and…” she hesitated then grimaced, remembering the contract she had signed, “well, I’m not really supposed to talk about it, am I?”_

_Ruby sighed. It was worse than she thought. “Oh, Ems.” There were times when she really felt like strangling Regina. She made things so much more difficult than they needed to be. “You haven’t watched any of the weekend’s news vids have you?”_

_“No, why?”_

_Ruby unfolded the newssheet she’d been reading on the front steps. She pushed it across the table for Emma to see. “You’re the top story in entertainment, kid.”_

The front door of the mansion opened and before Henry could greet her, Emma pushed past him. “Where is she?” She gestured towards the closed door of the study. “Is she in there?”

“Miss Emma, please wait.” Henry strode behind her, trying to catch up as she strode past him. “She doesn’t like to be interrupted.”

“Too bad.” She didn’t bother knocking, slamming open the door.

Regina’s head snapped up from her position behind the desk. “What is going…ah, Miss Swan.” She pushed to her feet as Emma stomped into the room. “What a pleasant surprise.”

“Did you do this on purpose?” Emma snapped, slamming the newssheet Ruby had shown her down on Regina’s desktop.

“Miss Emma, please,” Henry tried.

“It’s okay, Daddy,” Regina said, her gaze locked with Emma’s. “Clearly, Miss Swan has something on her mind that she wishes to speak with me about. You may leave us.”

Henry looked uncertainly between the two women, his daughter as calm and collected as always while the young victor looked like she was seconds away from flipping the desk. He reluctantly backed out of the room, closing the door with a shake of his head.

Without looking away from Emma, Regina picked up the newssheet. She’d already seen it, of course, and knowing how her victor would react, Emma’s sudden appearance wasn’t a complete surprise. Regina had actually expected her a few days earlier. She probably had Ruby to thank for the delay. Finally, she glanced at the paper, pretending to study it; she shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s a good picture.”

Emma snatched the paper from her hand and slammed it down on the desk, leaning over it into Regina’s space. “Did you set this up?”

“Set up what, Miss Swan?”

“ _This_.” Emma jabbed her finger at the headline that read ‘Broken In’ in bold letters. Below it was a series of pictures of Emma and Regina as they exited the train after their weekend away. Regina was clearly helping Emma, offering her an arm for support as Emma winced in obvious discomfort. Then they were both smiling as they walked arm and arm through the terminal. A paragraph beneath it, written by Sidney Glass, offered a theory.

****It would appear that the enigmatic Regina Mills, CEO of Mills Inc., has added yet another victor to her stables. Ms Mills and the Savior, a.k.a. Emma Swan, victor of last year’s Hunger Games, were seen departing the train in District 10 at a very early hour Saturday morning. The two then departed for the Mills Ranch, one of the largest in the district, where they stayed overnight and were not seen again until the following afternoon at which time the Savior appeared to be _limping_. Was the Savior ‘rode hard and put away wet’ during their weekend getaway? It was this reporter’s observation that Ms Mills certainly seemed relaxed. Perhaps next time, she’ll allow Miss Swan to be the victor.****

“Well, that’s just absurd,” Regina scoffed, tossing the paper back down. “None of the other ranches in District 10 even come close to mine in size.” She’d already called Sidney and addressed the mistake, promising that if he didn’t get his details right, she would be giving some other reporter a heads-up when she planned to make a splash on the social page.

“That’s not the point, Regina!” Emma grabbed the paper. “They think we’re…! That I’m some sort of…!” She was so mad her chest was heaving like she’d run all the way to the Capitol.

Regina cocked an eyebrow. “Do you have plans to finish any of your sentences?”

“And you haven’t denied any of it!”

That was the part that had driven Emma to hop on a train straight to the Capitol. Ruby had tried to keep her from watching too much coverage of it, but it seemed like every night Caesar or Claudius or some other gossip broadcaster managed to make another innuendo about how Emma and Regina had spent their weekend together. And when a reporter stuck his microphone in Regina’s face as she left some sort of art gala soiree the night before, the CEO had simply smirked and said, “No comment.”

“Why would I deny it?”

Emma spluttered at the woman’s infuriating calmness. “Because it isn’t true!”

“What isn’t true?”

“We aren’t sleeping together!”

“Technically, they haven’t said that we are.”

Emma growled in frustration and pulled at her hair. Obviously, Regina had no idea how her lack of denial made Emma look. Maybe Regina was used to having reporters dog her feet and take pictures of her while she was out; Emma wasn’t. She’d tried to go to the market only to find reporters and photographers camped out at her door, clamoring for her attention, a quick sound byte. After a couple of boring days, it was District 8 after all, they’d finally given up and left. When Emma finally made it back to Main Street, she’d learned her district’s people didn’t forget quite so quickly.

“Regina,” Emma tried again, “people in my district aren’t like the people here in the Capitol. They’re simple, hard-working people, and…and they were _proud_ of me for winning the games, but now…”

“Now they judge you and hate you for having more than they do.”

“What? No.” Emma shook her head. “No, that’s not it. They just…” she gestured towards the newssheet. “They see stuff like that and they hear what’s being said on the vids, but they’re not hearing anything from me. If I could just-”

“No.” Regina cut her off before she could even finish.

“But-”

“No.”

“I wouldn’t give them details, Regina!”

“You will give them nothing,” Regina sat back down behind her desk, “as per our non-disclosure agreement.”

Emma sat down across from her. “Regina, please, they think…they think I’m some sort of prostitute for you.”

“Miss Swan, let me be perfectly clear about something,” she clasped her hands together on top of her desk. “The public can _think_ whatever it wants, but they _know_ nothing. I expect you to keep it that way.” She powered up her computer; she had a business call in fifteen minutes. “I did warn you that this would be difficult.”

Emma slumped back in her chair. “You’re a piece of work, you know that?”

“Try to be more appreciative, Miss Swan.” She pulled up several spreadsheets that she’d need to use during her call. “I did save your life, after all.”

“You didn’t save my life.” Emma stood up, ready to leave. “You weren’t in that arena with me, no matter what you may tell yourself.”

Regina’s attention switched back to the young victor. She stood up, matching Emma in height. “Oh, I was there, Miss Swan. When you used that medicine to save your leg, when you ate food I provided, I was there. When you used your knife to kill your opponent, I was there. I _gave_ you those tools; I _provided_ for you. Without me, you’d be dead.”

“Yeah,” Emma scoffed, “and now I’m paying for your generosity.”

“Everything comes with a price, Miss Swan.” The computer dinged with a reminder. “See yourself out.” She sat back down at her desk. “Oh, and Miss Swan?”

The blonde was at the door; she turned but Regina wasn’t even looking at her. “What?”

“This doesn’t count as my weekend.”


	7. Party Favor

One would think that after a year of attending parties and Capitol socialite functions, Emma would be used to it. She wasn’t; she hated them. The fake people all standing around and congratulating each other before turning away and immediately talking shit about the person they’d just been with. The food was good, she always wished she could take some back to her district, and she really did enjoy the company of some of the other victors.

She used the excuse of needing to refill her drink to leave Regina’s side. She stood at the end of the bar, thankful to get a moment to herself. She was still mad at the woman for allowing the rumor mill to run crazy. Nothing had happened between them and yet Regina refused to acknowledge the rumors let alone dispute them. Her coy looks whenever the topic was raised and Emma’s flustered inability to set the record straight fueled the flames that Emma was nothing more than Regina Mills’ new toy.

There had even been photographers across the street when Emma had arrived at the mansion to start her weekend. When Regina had personally greeted her at the door instead of Henry, holding the door open with a fake smile and talking to Emma on the step before allowing her inside, Emma knew her sponsor had arranged for the press to see her arrive. Emma could not figure out what game Regina Mills was playing, but she was sick of it.

The civility between them had dropped the second the door closed.

_“Is that how it’s going to be all weekend?” Emma asked, squirming out from beneath the arm Regina had draped over her shoulders. “Your paid for paparazzi following us around?”_

_“We’re attending a ball tomorrow night, so I’m sure there will be plenty-” Regina had been walking away, Emma right behind her, when she stopped and turned back around. Her dark gaze trailed down to see the blonde’s black combat boots. “Miss Swan, you’ve been here enough times to know how I feel about your boots being worn in my home.”_

_Emma did know; she’d been counting on her clunky footsteps to get Regina’s attention. Regina had almost shown a true emotion when Emma had worn the boots from the barn inside the house in District 10. Emma had never lived anywhere that had floors so nice you weren’t supposed to wear shoes on them. Another ridiculousness that she could only attribute to living in the Capitol._

_“Yeah, I know.” Hell, she’d considered stomping through mud before coming over but hadn’t wanted to make Henry clean up after her. “But since I don’t **belong** to you or anything,” she leaned in, “I’m free to make my own decisions.” She gave the brunette a wink and walked past her, heading for the kitchen. “Got anything to eat? I’m starving.”_

From that moment on, Emma had tried (and succeeded) to be the most pain in the ass guest she could possibly be. Even to herself, she hadn’t been entirely clear on her goal except she wanted to rile Regina. Maybe if she pissed the sponsor off enough, she’d be kicked out of the mansion, free to go her merry way. She’d shown up for her weekend; it wasn’t her fault if Regina didn’t like her company.

It hadn’t taken her any time at all to find stuff that irked the brunette. The hard part had been keeping one step ahead of Henry, making sure he couldn’t clean up her messes before Regina saw them. She’d draped her jacket over the stair rail, left her boots and socks on different steps, and barged into Regina’s office more than once without knocking. She had no idea what she was interrupting, but the bulging vein on Regina’s forehead was enough to know that her plan was working.

And then she’d found something that had really pissed off the woman.

_Emma was having lunch in the main front room, utilizing the huge video screen Regina had probably never even turned on. It wasn’t the comfy room in the back that Emma usually liked to hang out in, but everything in it looked expensive and it was closer to Regina’s office. Emma found a sporting event of some kind playing and she turned the volume way, way up._

_She sat back on the couch, propping her bare feet on the dark wood table, plate of food balanced precariously on her lap. As the crowd roared on the video, she could practically count down the seconds until Regina appeared._

_“What the hell are you doing?”_

_Emma took a bite of her sandwich, letting crumbs fall down her front and onto the couch, then spoke around her food. “Watching sports.” When she sat up, she offered the plate towards Regina. “Want some?”_

_Regina leaned away as though it was a bad smell. “Is there something wrong with the kitchen or dining room that would force you to eat in here?”_

_The blonde dropped the plate onto the table, purposefully allowing a few chips to fall off it. “Well I kind of made a mess in the kitchen, so I’m sure Henry is still in there cleaning…”_

_“My father is not here to clean up after you, Miss Swan.” The words were snapped out between teeth that could bite off steel._

_“I tried to tell him not to bother,” Emma said, picking up her beer bottle to take a swig, “but he seemed to think-”_

_Regina bore down on her like a bird of prey spotting a rodent and swiped the bottle from her hand. “I will not have you getting drunk…”_

_For a second, Emma honestly thought Regina was about to crack the bottle over her head. Then her gaze shifted and her grip became white knuckled around the bottle. Emma thought she might crush the glass beneath her hand._

_“Is that. A water ring. On my table.”_

_The blonde glanced down. Despite her antics, she hadn’t actually meant to do any real damage, but sure enough, where her cold bottle of beer had been sweating was a light-colored ring on the surface of the dark wood. She cleared her throat. “I can fix that.”_

_Furious brown eyes flashed at her. “Do you have any idea how much a mahogany table like that costs?”_

_Emma dropped her hands into her back pockets. And she was back to not feeling so bad about her plan. "Nope.”_

_Regina’s jaw worked back and forth as though chewing on the many things she wanted to say. Ultimately, she shoved the bottle into Emma’s chest. “I have a very important call to make for the next hour. Do **not** disturb me.” _

Emma had, of course, considered pressing her luck, but the woman had honestly scared her a little, enough that she shut off the vid screen and helped Henry finish cleaning up the kitchen. She hadn’t given up though. After a short cooling off period, Emma had continued to needle Regina every chance she had up until they were in the car on the way to some Saturday night gala.

_“There are going to be some very important people here tonight, Miss Swan. I would appreciate it if you could manage to contain your antics for when we are in the privacy of my home.”_

_Emma glanced over at the woman dressed in a sparkling green sheathe dress. She hadn’t figured Regina for green, but it seemed the woman could really wear any color. Emma picked at the perfect crease in her pants leg; surprisingly, Regina had chosen a perfectly tailored suit for her to wear. She was much more comfortable in it then she would have been in heels and a dress. She tried to tell herself that was why she had already decided to be on her best behavior, but that wasn’t the real reason. Much like the water ring, Emma didn’t intend to cause Regina any real problems._

_“Miss Swan?”_

_She looked up, found Regina was waiting for an answer, a reassurance. Emma gave her a sad smile. “Unlike some people in this car, Regina, I have no intention of causing you any embarrassment.” She glanced out the window and saw the mob scene they were arriving at. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”_

_There was a flash of surprise then Regina gave a quick nod. When the car slowed to a stop, she said, “Follow my lead, Miss Swan.”_

_As soon as they stepped out of the car, Regina took her by the arm, allowing Emma to escort her up the carpet. They paused for photos more than once, Regina draping herself across Emma more with each spot. The questions they refused to answer and pretended to ignore grew louder. Just as they reached the doors to go inside, away from the majority of the cameras, Regina pulled them to a stop. With a glance over her shoulder to make sure someone was watching, she leaned in and kissed Emma on the cheek._

After that, they had quickly escaped inside even though the kiss to Emma’s cheek had caused the volume behind them to increase tenfold and the camera flashes had looked like a celebratory light show. The cameras hadn’t caught the whisper in Emma’s ear, but when she turned to ask Regina about it, the brunette had simply smiled and pulled her further into the party.

Two hours later and Emma still didn’t know what to make of her sponsor’s antics. Maybe if they sat down and called a truce, they could figure everything out. Maybe if they could escape all the crazy Capitol nonsense-

“Emma Swan,” a deep male voice said from beside her. “I’ve been wanting to meet you.”

The desire to drop her head to the bar and hit it repeatedly was difficult to ignore. But she had been attending these parties and functions for a year and she was beginning to be able to act with the best of them. She plastered on a polite smile and straightened to find an older man dressed impeccably in a sharp suit. “Good evening.”

“Albert Spencer,” he supplied, offering her his hand.

Emma reluctantly accepted his hand, repressing a shudder when he raised it to his mouth and kissed it. She tensed when he didn’t let go and instead moved her hand down to her side, using the motion to invade her space. She tried to step back but there was only a wall behind her. “Uhm…”

“I enjoyed watching you in the Games,” he said, his voice low enough that only she could hear him. He slid his hand up her arm, wrapping around her bicep. “Your athleticism was a pleasure to behold.”

“T-thanks.” Her revulsion kicked up by a factor of ten at his innuendo. She looked past him, desperate to see any of the people she usually couldn’t get away from for more than five minutes. “I, uhm, was just-”

“It’s a damn shame Regina got to you first.”

Emma blinked, trying to focus on what he’d just said instead of wondering when his hand had slid down to her waist. “What?”

He set his drink down on the bar, moving in closer to her as he did. “I was going to sponsor you in the Games.” Spencer’s hand slid around to her lower back, beneath her suit jacket. “With the connections I have in the Capitol, I could have easily saved you.”

Emma wanted to knee him in the crotch and throw him to the ground, but she hesitated. He was a powerful man in the Capitol. She’d even heard Regina complaining about his ruthless business practices and how he destroyed people. His comment reminding her of his connections had been purposeful and well timed. She held herself rigidly still as he leaned closer, his lips grazing against her ear.

“I was glad to see Regina finally broke you in properly.” The hand slid down to her ass and squeezed. “She waited far longer than I would have.” His entire body molded against hers; his hand left her ass and began slowly pulling the back of her shirt free from her pants. “You would have been on your knees repaying your debt to me at the Victor’s ball.”

Emma turned her head away from him; the scent of his cologne was overwhelming as he ground his hips against her, ensuring she knew exactly how he felt. His hot breath tickled the sensitive skin of her neck as he chuckled.

“You’re trembling,” he said. His free hand traced up her side, stopping at the side of her breast. “Maybe I’ll ask Regina if she’d consider sharing. I’m sure I could interest her in a fair business deal for an hour or two alone with you. I know a few others who would be interested as well for your company.”

A loud crash of glasses startled both of them and Albert’s hand dropped away from the front of her shirt as he whirled around. He growled at the interruption, “What has that jackass done now?”

Killian was slouched against the bar; an entire tray of glasses pushed off the bar and onto the floor. “I am so sorry, love,” he said, offering a napkin to the bartender. “Apparently, my sea legs have left me this evening.” He turned and grinned at the crowd that had gathered around. “Anyone willing to take me aboard their ship?”

The group tittered and laughed as Killian rakishly raised an eyebrow at one female suitor that looked truly enamored with him. “What about you, love?” he asked, approaching her with even more than his usual swagger. “I’d wager your ship could use a good…pillaging,” he played to the crowd as the woman blushed and pulled him in closer. “What do you say, love? Willing to take me home?”

“Only if you bring your sword!” she replied and the crowd erupted in laughter.

Emma used the distraction to slip away from Spencer’s grip. Just before she left the room behind, she caught Killian’s gaze over the woman’s head he was now dancing with. He gave her a solemn nod then returned his attention to spinning his latest conquest. Her breath caught in her throat and she hurried to find Regina.

The brunette was in conversation with a man and two women who all appeared to have dipped their wardrobe in some sort of shimmering purple paint when Emma found her. Regina glanced at Emma, acknowledging her before turning back to the purple trio, then stopped and looked more fully at the blonde. “Miss Swan,” she asked, “is everything all right?”

“I’m fine,” Emma said quickly, giving the trio a tight smile. “Love your…sparkle.”

The woman closest to Emma beamed at the compliment and began gushing about how difficult it had been to find a persistent way to glimmer. “The stylists simply could not understand what I wanted,” she finished with a complaint.

“Stylists can be difficult,” Regina said, then continued quickly, “would you excuse us for a moment?” She took Emma’s hand and pulled her away. She nodded at a few people as they passed before finding a relatively quiet corner and faced the blonde. “What happened?”

“Nothing, I’m fine.”

“Emma, your hands are freezing and you’re,” Regina hesitated, peering at her, “you’re shaking.”

Emma pulled her hand away from Regina’s and crossed her arms. “I’m not feeling well. Can we leave?”

Regina watched as the younger woman unconsciously rubbed her hand up and down her arm. Clearly, something had happened and she would find out what. “I still have two people I need to speak with before I can leave,” she said reluctantly. “But why don’t you go out front and have them bring the car around? I shouldn’t be more than a half hour.”

“I’d rather stay with you,” Emma blurted out then snapped her mouth shut.

Regina eyed her carefully. “All right.” She didn’t like it but she really did need to speak to at least one of her two targets tonight. “I need five minutes. Can you hold it together for that long?”

Emma flinched then nodded tightly. “I’m good.”

Regina could see the blonde shutting down in front of her. The emotional detachment she’d seen during the games quickly dulling the green eyes. She hated it. Luckily, she spotted the man she was looking for and looped her arm through Emma’s and led the way towards him.

“Plutarch,” she said, approaching the man and air kissing his cheeks. He wore a sparkling green coat with tails and had shoulder length blonde hair. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s always a pleasure, Regina,” he said, grinning at her, his eyes cutting quickly over to Emma.

“I know you know who this is,” Regina said, squeezing the blonde’s arm to get her attention, “but allow me to formally introduce you. Emma, this is Plutarch Heavensbee. He’s one of the up and coming gamemakers for the Capitol.”

Emma managed to nod politely at him but she didn’t offer her hand. “Good evening.”

“It is now,” he said genially. “How are you finding the life of a victor?”

She appraised him for longer than was comfortable before finally answering, “Different.”

“Different?” he chuckled. “I would imagine so.”

“You’ll have to forgive Miss Swan; she isn’t feeling well,” Regina said, stepping smoothly into the conversation. “We’re actually leaving early but I didn’t want to leave without seeing you.”

His Cheshire-like grin didn’t wane as he returned his attention to Regina. “Yes, it’s been too long.”

“Perhaps we can do lunch sometime this week instead,” Regina suggested. “There are a few things I’d like to discuss with you.”

“I’m sure there are,” he said. “I’m free on Tuesday.”

“The Fox and the Hare?”

He nodded. “I’ll see you at noon.”

Regina rubbed a thumb across the golden dusting of beard on his chin. “I’ll see you then.” She nudged Emma who nodded at the man as they turned to leave. “Let’s go.”

“I thought you needed to speak to two people,” Emma said her tone flat as they walked towards the front door.

“They can wait,” Regina said, signaling her driver. “I need to get you home.”

Emma stared out at the circular drive. “I can’t go home.”

Regina stared at her. “Why not?”

“It’s only Saturday,” Emma said. “The weekend isn’t over yet.”


	8. Wake Up Call

When Emma opened her eyes the next morning, it only took her a second to recognize the opulent guest bedroom of Regina’s mansion. She didn’t remember going to bed or even arriving at the mansion the previous night. She frowned; she usually did her best not to drink too much and be on her best behavior at Capitol events with Regina. The last thing she could really recall was Killian knocking over a tray of drinks and then Regina’s concerned brown eyes. 

She sat up in the bed, the comforter falling to her waist. She was wearing her pajamas and not the clothes she’d worn to the party. She scrubbed a hand over her face and tried to remember…

Albert Spencer.

Fuck.

She threw the covers off her legs and slipped out of the bed. Nausea was rolling in her gut as she made her way into the oversized bathroom. She dropped to her knees and hurled into the toilet. She was shaking and cold sweat rolled down her back as hot tears escaped her eyes. She could have been…

He _wanted_ her.

Albert. Fucking. Spencer.

He would have sponsored her. She would have been sold to him. She would have been on her knees for him. Would Ruby have turned him down if it meant saving Emma’s life? Would Ruby have even been able to decline his help? How long would his contract have been? If not for Regina, would she be waking up in his bed right now? And he said there were others…

_Everything I do is for you._

That’s what Regina had whispered in her ear right before they entered the party, just after their walk down the red carpet. Suddenly, all the things that Finnick and Ruby had said to her made so much more sense. Even Lily and Snow had tried to tell her. She was _lucky_ Regina had saved her in the games. Five years bound in a contract with a woman that had required nothing of her but her presence and her silence. Five years was nothing.

Emma was an ungrateful bitch. Or, at least that’s how she had been acting.

She needed to thank Regina.

Thirty minutes later, Emma made her way downstairs, showered and dressed. She needed to find Regina. The scent of her expensive coffee drew Emma to the kitchen. She found food set out for her, with her goddamn name on it, but no Regina. She grabbed a piece of toast and almost left the kitchen while eating it then remembered how much Regina hated that. She moved back to the island and ate the toast over her plate, carefully wiping any crumbs into her hand which she then discarded properly. Thankfully, coffee was one of the few things that was allowed out of the kitchen and she fixed herself a mug.

The other obvious place to find Regina would be her study. The door was closed and she knew Regina didn’t like it when she just barged in. It would be easier to just open the door and figure out if the woman was in the room, but unlike yesterday she knocked politely and waited.

“I want him ruined!”

Emma could hear Regina’s voice moving closer towards the door and Emma stepped back just as the door swung open.

“What?!” Regina snapped then her eyes widened, clearly not expecting to see the blonde woman standing there. “Miss Swan. I uh…” She touched her hand up to her earpiece. “Get it done!” She clicked off the call and ripped the earpiece out. “I didn’t realize it was you.”

Emma gestured over her shoulder. “I can come back later.”

“No, no.” Regina stepped back and gestured for her to enter. “Please, come in.” Her brow furrowed slightly. “Thank you for knocking.”

“Yeah, uh, sorry about before.” Emma stood uncomfortably in front of the fireplace.

If Regina thought the sudden change of manners was odd, she didn’t say anything. She circled behind her desk and threw the earpiece on the desktop. She shifted a few devices and papers around before eventually looking up to find Emma still standing in the middle of the room. “Are you feeling better today?”

“Hmmm?” Emma spun around. “Oh, uhm, yeah. I mean,” she ran a hand through her hair, “I don’t remember coming home last night or how I got into bed, but I’m good now. And, I’m sorry if I embarrassed you or anything.”

“You didn’t,” Regina assured her quickly.

“But you don’t know-”

“Killian told me what happened.”

“He…what?” She’d forgotten it was Killian’s timely intrusion that allowed her escape. She remembered seeing him, remembered him acting like the party favor he seemed to enjoy being. Realization rushed over her. “He did that on purpose.”

Regina heard her whisper and guided her to sit down on the couch. She didn’t like the way the blonde had suddenly gone pale. “I should have warned you about Spencer. I knew he was interested, but I didn’t think…I should have known.”

“Known what?” Emma asked, her throat felt tight and she barely got the question out.

“I’m well aware of how he treats those he considers to be beneath him,” Regina said. “I thought my reputation would be enough to protect you.” A hardness entered her eyes as she remembered finding Emma’s untucked shirt the previous night as she'd helped the victor in to bed. “I can assure you, it won’t happen again.”

Emma wanted to ask how she could make that promise, but she had a feeling she didn’t want to know. “I, uhm,” she coughed, “can I have a glass of cider?” She saw the brunette’s eyes flick to the clock over the mantle. It wasn’t even close to noon. “Never mind.”

“No, no.” Regina got up. “It’s fine.” She quickly fixed two glasses and brought them back to the couch. “Some days call for it.”

Needing a little bit of liquid courage, Emma knocked hers back. She appreciated that Regina had fixed herself one as well but noticed the woman didn’t actually drink from it. Once she set her glass down, she straightened. “There’s something I need to say.” She saw Regina’s chin come up, bracing herself.

“Thank you,” Emma said, holding her gaze. “And, I’m sorry.”

Regina leaned back slightly; her eyes narrowed. “For what?”

Emma gestured at the room around them. “For this.” She chuckled dryly. “For saving my life. And I don’t just mean inside the arena.” She reached forward and put her hand on the older woman’s knee. “I know you saved me from hunger, from poison, from people like Spencer. Probably from a lot of things I don’t even know about yet. So, thank you.”

The brunette cleared her throat. “Yes, well…”

“And although you haven't exactly made it easy, I haven’t been very grateful or returned that kindness,” Emma admitted wryly. “I do plan to try and be more agreeable.”

Regina took a deep drink from her cider, coughing slightly as she set the glass down. She patted Emma’s hand and nodded. “ _That_ would be a welcome change, Miss Swan.”


	9. The 67th Annual Hunger Games

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These last two chapters were a little shorter so wanted to give them to you together. As I said at the beginning, as long as the muse cooperates I have plans to take this series a lot further. Thank you so much for the support you've given it and I hope you continue to enjoy.

It was only six weeks later when Emma actually fled to the mansion.

It had been a year since her nightmare had started at the reaping. A fucking year, which meant that tonight had been the first night of the 67th Annual Hunger Games.

Regina hadn’t been home, of course, when Emma had pounded her fist against the mansion's front door. The rich woman was probably out attending some sort of sponsor party, but Henry had welcomed Emma inside. He’d taken one look at her and guided her into the living room, gently pushing her to sit down on the couch. The next thing she’d known, there was a blanket around her shoulders and a crystal glass tumbler in her hand. Henry encouraged her to drink, and the homemade cider she’d come to enjoy slid easily down her throat, warming her entire chest.

The warmth was a mistake; it made her feel, and that was the last thing she wanted to do. She felt her entire body crumble as she tipped forward, curling in on herself. A sob finally broke free and the dam was broken. They were dead. Seven minutes and four seconds into the 67th Annual Hunger Games and both of her district’s tributes were dead. Her first year as a mentor and the two teenagers she’d been training for a month were dead. Less than ten minutes.

“It wasn’t your fault, Miss Emma,” Henry’s kind voice said when her crying quieted after several minutes.

She slowly sat up, aching, wet eyes blinking wearily at him. She hadn’t even noticed his hand rubbing comforting circles on her back. “I trained them,” she said, sniffing. “I tried…I thought I taught them enough to survive. They were _good_ kids.”

“It’s rare they allow a district to win back to back games,” he said, pointing out a truth that had never occurred to her.

Emma frowned, trying to understand. “What are you saying?”

Henry shook his head. “You did everything you could for them.”

“So, because I won last year, they never had a chance?” she asked, racking her brain to try and think of all the victors and match them with their districts and years. She wanted, _needed_ to prove him wrong. “There was that brother and sister from District One; they won back to back.”

Henry nodded. “Made for a great story, didn’t it?” His dark eyes held hers, imploring her to understand.

“It kept everyone…entertained.” Her head swam with the realization. Her heart felt like it was in her throat, anger flashed through her like a heat wave. “It’s all a fucking show.”

“It always has been.” Henry poured a finger of cider into the glass and drank it himself. He refilled the glass to full and handed it to Emma. He sat silently beside her as she swallowed half of it down.

Thoughts raced through Emma’s mind, chasing each other around, one after the other. She thought about Finnick, the victor of the games before hers. He’d been the most popular from day one. The handsome charmer that had captivated the citizens of the capitol. She thought about Ruby and Killian, hell even Graham. They practically oozed sex appeal and charm.

She thought about the handsome blonde kid from District One in her games; the one that had tried to strangle her. During their tribute parade, the crowds had cheered the loudest for him. There’d always been flowers and trinkets laid at his door in the Tribute tower. The brother and sister victors, his mentors, had proudly paraded him as their prodigy. He’d been the obvious favorite.

“I was never supposed to win, was I?”

Henry shrugged and began to tidy away the decanter and empty glass. “Everyone loves an underdog.”

Emma snorted, then began to laugh. It was a sad broken chuckle but it was enough. The old man winked at her and left the room with his wares.

Two glasses of cider on a mostly empty stomach were winding their way through Emma's bloodstream. She fumbled with her boots and managed to get them off before she stretched out on the ridiculously comfortable cushions. She stared up at the high ceiling, letting the intricate carved patterns blur together before she closed her eyes and succumbed to sleep.

She woke at the lightest touch and found Regina draping a blanket over her. The room was dark, a lot darker than it had been when she’d arrived. She cleared her throat. “What time is it?”

Regina started slightly, quickly recovering. “It’s late.” She glanced at the clock on the mantle and winced. “Or very, very early.”

Emma’s gaze roved over her in the low light of the room. She couldn’t tell what color the dress was, but it was shimmery and clearly tailored perfectly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” Regina asked softly.

“That my tributes were going to die.”

The older woman hesitated, then sighed, “I’m not sure to be honest.” She carefully sank down and took a seat on the cushions next to Emma’s legs. “I didn’t want you to lose hope I suppose.”

“Hope?” Emma scoffed.

“Despite your tough exterior, you aren’t nearly as disdainful about human life as the rest of us,” Regina admitted. She reached out and moved a lock of Emma’s hair away from her forehead, tucking it back behind her ear. “You still care.”

Emma had frozen at the gentle touch; she’d also caught a scent of red wine on Regina’s breath. The older woman had been drinking and her walls were down just a little more than usual. “Why did you save me?”

“As I understand it, you saved yourself,” she said ruefully, repeating words Emma had hurled at her before. “I simply provided tools.”

While true, Emma had conceded that without Regina’s aid, she would have never survived her games. “You chose to help me,” she said. “Why?”

She was quiet long enough that Emma thought she might not answer, but just when the blonde decided to try a different question, Regina spoke.

“I first noticed you during the parade. You didn’t play to the crowd like all the others. I thought that was a bit foolish on your part, bold perhaps, but foolish. Then during the interview, despite Caesar’s best efforts, you refused to play their game. You did what was required of you and nothing more.” She smiled ruefully. “I’m sure your advisors were having a fit.”

“They all quit,” Emma admitted. “All of them except Ruby.”

Regina nodded. “Ruby still hasn’t learned how not to get attached, I’m afraid. Even when she’s learned that life is cheap in the Capitol, she still… _loves_. When you were poisoned and she came to me, _begging_ for me to help you,” she shrugged. “I couldn’t bring myself to crush her.”

But the aid hadn’t ended there. “And the knife?”

The brunette looked away. “What about it?”

The longer the games went, the more expensive it became to send gifts to tributes. On day one, a knife would have cost a pretty penny. There had only been four tributes left when Emma had received it. “That couldn’t have been cheap.”

“I was simply protecting my investment,” Regina said, then stood up. “I have to be up in a few hours. Get some sleep, Miss Swan.”

The heiress withdrew physically as fast as she had mentally. Emma smirked in the darkness. “Hey, Regina?”

Regina paused her retreat, raising an eyebrow at the blonde.

“You can call me, Emma, you know.”

The sponsor hesitated, then inclined her head. “Very well.”

She turned to leave again and Emma stopped her once more. “Hey, Regina.”

The woman actually sighed, “Yes, dear?”

“This doesn’t count as my weekend.”

There was the faintest smile. “Good night, Emma.”

Emma watched her go, listened to her heels across the hall and up the stairs. She turned over on her side, pulling the blanket up to her shoulder. “Good night, Regina.”


	10. Shall We Continue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is really just a note to let you know I have finally got the second part of this series written and ready to go. I'll be posting the first chapter of book two later this evening so keep an eye out for it. I hope you enjoy and sorry it took so long.

Just to give you something worthwhile in this tease of a post, here's the rough timeline I've been using to try and keep myself somewhat organized along the timeline.

Hunger Games List of Victors

11th – Mags Flanagan

15th \- **Rumplestiltskin**

25th – **Maleficent**

38th \- Porter Millicent Tripp

39th – Woof *

45th – Chaff (Snow becomes president)

46th – Cecelia*

50th – Haymitch Abernathy

51st - **Snow White**

52nd - **Charming**

56th \- **Graham Humbert**

57th – **Lilith Page**

59th - **Killian Jones**

61st – **Ruby Lucas**

62nd – Enobaria

63rd \- Gloss 

64th – Cashmere

65th – Finnick Odair

66th – **Emma Swan**

67th – Augustus Braun

68th - 

69th –

70th – Annie Cresta

71st – Johanna Mason

72nd -

73rd – district 2 unknown career

74th – Katniss Everdeen / Peeta Mellark

*canon that they won a games just not sure which games

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have not read The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes so my canon knowledge is still mostly based off the original Hunger Games trilogy.


End file.
